In Times of Peace
by Totally-Out-Of-It
Summary: Years after the war with Zarkon, Lance comes home to his husband and their Galran daughter. Klance. Inspired by post/155865369386/wuhkie-folds-hands-look-all-i-want-is on KurosakiAmi01's tumblr.


**In Times of Peace**

 _Years after the war with Zarkon, Lance comes home to his husband and their Galran daughter. Inspired by post/155865369386/wuhkie-folds-hands-look-all-i-want-is on KurosakiAmi01's tumblr.  
_

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…

Lance sighed as he entered the house. Work that day had been difficult.

Don't get him wrong, Lance loved his job. He got to meet new races and help people and make a difference in the post-Galra universe. His opinions were taken seriously and no one doubted his skill as a pilot anymore. His uniform had so many stars and awards on it that sometimes Lance was amazed he didn't fall over from the weight.

But when a group of visiting Ypareans manages to insult the chief of Ahdorite aerial defense, and the entire day is spent with Lance running back and forth between the two – giving orders and lectures and trying to placate them so an intergalactic issue doesn't occur….well, Lance didn't sign up to be a bureaucrat, okay? He had been scheduled to teach a small class of new cadets how to pilot the new ships that had just come out, using reprogrammed Galra tech (via Pidge and Hunk) mixed with leftover Altean tech. That would've been so much more fun.

Lance hung his official cap and coat from hooks on the wall by the door. The hooks were actually meant for keys, but they held pretty much anything put on them. Then he shook himself and pat his cheeks. He was home now, and that meant food and drink and TV. And his family.

Mostly his family.

Speaking of. Lance entered the living room and grinned. Keith was laying against the couch, his head tilted back so he was facing the ceiling, his face calm in slumber. His entire body was lax, his legs sprawled across the carpeted floor and left arm half on the couch, half dangling in the air. His right arm was around Tarania.

Tarania. Their daughter.

Her purple skin was mostly hidden under an adorable teal and orange tie dyed shirt she'd made herself (with Lance's help) and layered denim skirt with orange knee socks. The mess of curling purple hair on her head almost entirely hid her small feline ears, though Lance knew they'd grow larger with time. She was leaning against Keith, and probably sleeping deeper than her father, with a smile on her face as she snuggled into Keith's warmth.

The way she held Keith around his waist reminded Lance of the day he and Keith had found Tarania. There had been a raid on a Galra city by a coalition of races upset at the losses they'd suffered for ten thousand years at the hands of Zarkon and his men. It didn't matter that there were no soldiers in that city, or that there was no evidence of those Galra having ever been part of Zarkon's empire further than sharing his race.

Keith, knowing by then of his own Galran heritage, had wanted to chase down the coalition and make them pay for killing hundreds of innocent people. Allura had sent Shiro instead. Shiro was well known as a former Galran prisoner. The coalition would respond better to Shiro's justice than to Keith's. Instead, Keith was the head of the party sent to search for survivors and assess the damage.

An hour into the mission, Lance and Keith had heard crying. Following the sound led them to a building that was almost entirely rubble. Under a chunk of wall were three Galran adults, all deceased, covering a crying toddler clutching at their clothes.

She wouldn't let go of the female Galran's shirt, no matter what Lance tried. But then Keith finished moving the last of the rubble and set the other bodies aside, and had joined them. Tarania took one look at Keith and, despite the fact that Keith displayed no Galran features, threw herself into his arms and wept. They let the rest of their team finish the search while they comforted the child.

Tarania threw a fit when a medical team took her from Keith, and Keith looked just as broken up about the separation. So Lance took it upon himself to get them custody of the now orphaned Galra. The smile on her face had been timid but nevertheless happy when she'd heard the news, and they'd never let her go since.

Now she was eight, in school with the children of other members of the Intergalactic Space Alliance, and in love with Roderian flysnips – four legged birds with beaks shaped like bowls. A stuffed version of the creature was actually lying on the carpet by Keith's right foot. They were beginning to have to deal with anti-Galran sentiments from other kids in the class, and working to prove that being a Galra didn't mean being evil. Keith being public about his own Galra heritage did a lot to help on that front.

Lance leaned over the back of the couch and tapped Keith repeatedly on the head until he woke up. It was a testament to the decade of peace they'd had that Keith didn't jump to alertness but rather slid awake like rain on a window.

The curse that fell from Keith's lips at the sight of Lance wasn't in English, but Lance was still glad Tarania wasn't awake to hear it. "I fell asleep," Keith grumbled, rubbing his face with his free hand.

Lance grinned. "Want some coffee?"

Keith frowned. "I told you, we don't have to drink coffee just because we're adults. Or parents."

"I'm just teasing," Lance said, shaking his head and standing up straight again. "Besides, it's late anyway. You don't need coffee, you need some beauty sleep."

Eyes narrowing in suspicion at Lance's tone, Keith asked, "What makes you say that?"

Grinning, Lance crossed his arms and said, "Cause the bags under your eyes make you look, like, at least twelve years too old."

"I'm putting Tara to bed," Keith said, monotonous.

Lance stifled his laughs in his fist as Keith gathered their daughter into his arms. "I'm sorry, Keith. You make it too easy to pick on you when you wear those old man pants."

Glancing down at himself, Keith lifted a confused eyebrow. "They're denim shorts."

"Old man pants," Lance repeated.

It was an old argument, if it could even be called an argument. Keith had begun wearing denim shorts after they adopted Tarania. Denim shorts and t-shirts. The man was one of the highest ranking officials in the ISA and he enjoyed walking around town like a beach comber singing about margaritas.

Then again, he'd looked frankly amazing that day they'd taken a family trip to the beach. The denim shorts made sense then. He'd worn a button up red shirt, with the buttons undone, and sandals. Not flip flops, but proper sandals that had a strap to hold them on his feet if he had to run. Tarania had been small enough then that Keith liked to carry her on his shoulders. Lance preferred to give her piggyback rides so he could hold her as close to himself as possible, but Keith got her as high as he could, as high as she wanted, and let her see everything around her. Lance had snapped a picture of the event and it was now in the hologram picture frame on the bedside table.

Lance blocked Keith's path when Keith rounded the couch toward Tarania's bedroom. "I wanna do it."

Without a moment's hesitation, Keith helped maneuver Tarania into Lance's arms instead. Lance smiled and they both walked down the hall to the bedroom together. When Lance laid their little Galra down and covered her with her blankets, she opened her yellow eyes.

"Papa?"

Lance nodded. "Yep. Just tucking you in for bed."

Tarania yawned, big and wide, wider than any human jaw would allow. "Welcome home," she mumbled before turning over and snuggling into her pillow.

Lance's heart just about melted at how cute she still was. He leaned over and kissed one of her ears, making it flick back and forth at the sensation. "Te quiero, Tara," he whispered with his mouth still next to her ear.

"Tambien," Tarania managed in return, and then she fell back to sleep.

Next it was time for Keith and Lance to get ready for bed. Lance was exhausted from the day at work, and Keith had spent his day off with the excitable antics of an eight year old, so falling into bed was easy. Keith pulled Lance into his chest and wrapped his arms around Lance's waist.

With his mouth next to Lance's, Keith whispered into the dark, "Sarang-hae," mimicking Lance's goodnight to Tarania.

Lance snorted. "Cheesy."

"Lance," Keith said, his breath coasting over Lance's ear. It wasn't a pout, or an invitation for anything, but Lance's heart still sped up.

Blushing, and glad Keith couldn't see it, Lance said, "Nado sarang-hae," and leaned further into Keith's big spoon.

His pronunciation was passable, but he'd never sound fluent in Korean, which was hilarious to Coran since Lance's alien languages were coming along very well. He almost didn't need the translator module for a few races.

Appeased, Keith squeezed Lance in an approximation of a hug. As Lance fell asleep, he thought about how he'd gone from a hot headed, decent pilot to a savior of the universe to a domestic husband and dad with almost no fuss at all. It was strange how life worked out sometimes.

 _…_

 _…_

 _Fin_

 _…_

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Te quiero – I love you

Tambien – also (meant in 'I love you too')

Sarang-hae – I love you

Nado sarang-hae – I love you too

Please let me know if there's something wrong with these translations. I did my best to google the proper terms, but I am not a fluent Spanish or Korean speaker.


End file.
